The Sandevistan replaces biochemical stimulation with electrical stimulation—bypassing neurotransmitter transmission entirely and directly zapping neural regions with current, pushing human reaction speeds past theoretical limits.
Those limits are normally defined by how fast neurotransmitters travel through the body.
But raw reaction speed alone isn't enough.
Faster input means output has to keep up. Signals need to fire just as fast, and the body itself has to withstand high-speed movement. That's why people need combat cyberware, implanted systems—more chrome, more mods.
And the more chrome you stack, the easier it is for neural systems to go haywire. Even ignoring the psychological side, electrical stimulation and cyberware electrolytes alone can destabilize the brain.
For a rogue AI, though? None of that matters.
It's machine.
What determines a machine's movement speed comes down to processor cycles, actuator response, sensor latency—purely mechanical metrics.
Everything is quantifiable. Every limit calculated. Every component tuned—
—to the maximum values Muramasa recognizes.
Humans can be impressive sometimes—pushing a single module of their gear beyond standard output, hitting performance way above average.
But an AI?
It exists at that level by default.
Muramasa was born to design weapons.
And when it holds one—
—the weapon comes alive.
Masamune's body retained only 11% original organic tissue. Violent impacts and extreme heat warped the chassis slightly, compressing what little flesh remained.
But once Muramasa took control, even that 11% began to fail.
Electric current surged through, frying biological components essential to humans—spinal cord, peripheral nerves.
Tissue carbonized, crushed under mechanical pressure, reforged into conductive fibers. Sensory decoders were completely restructured—no longer translating signals into human-readable input.
Now—
everything was pure electrical signal.
Muramasa turned its gaze toward the building where Maelstrom had holed up.
It saw Joestar carrying a massive iron coffin.
And in that instant, it understood why their appearance hadn't triggered any anomalies in the micro-transmitters.
They had taken Brainiac's mainframe with them.
Battlefield data flooded in.
As Muramasa calculated tactics, fragmented memories surfaced in its memory banks:
Inside an Arasaka training facility, faceless instructors teaching what they called "ninjutsu."
"The more complex the situation, the harder it is for humans to process multiple variables. Launch multidimensional attacks—at any moment, any vector can become your primary strike."
The Centaur mech raised its arm.
Muramasa's humanoid body stood atop it, spikes deploying from its feet—
Take out the weakest first.
Everyone turned at Joestar's shout.
What they saw:
The Centaur mech trembling violently, its failing arm barely lifting—
Then—
detonation.
The arm launched.
Those with fast optics would later describe it like this:
That wasn't a mechanical arm.
That was a three-meter multi-stage rocket.
Joestar's optics were absurdly sharp. While others thought it was a last-ditch malfunction, he saw it clearly—
There was someone on that arm.
Boom!
"SHIT!"
Explosions cascaded through the arm's joints, accelerating it to insane velocity.
Two seconds.
Nearly 1,500 meters crossed.
Direct impact—rooftop.
The Maelstrom gangers barely had time to curse, feet just lifting off their positions—
—and then it smashed straight into the structure.
The arm punched through the roof, shattered support beams, and slammed deep into steel columns.
The strike was deceptively precise—
The entire roof collapsed outward from the impact point.
Joestar bolted.
That thing was targeting him.
His mom was screaming for him to run.
He listened.
Standing atop the arm, Muramasa's internal gyros spun at maximum output. Just before impact, it redirected inertia—
—but the tradeoff was skyrocketing core temperature.
Its left hand deployed an integrated tool hammer.
With a reverse motion, it ripped rockets from the Centaur's arm, both mechanical legs kicking off—
launching straight toward the stunned Maelstrom crew.
They sensed danger—
but at that speed, there was no reacting.
One ganger's head was crushed instantly.
Muramasa used the impact as momentum, launching toward the next target.
The second raised a cyberarm pistol—
—and got a rocket to the face.
Boom!
Everyone snapped their attention to the rooftop.
Brick reacted too—but he was running heavy gear.
His so-called "lightweight" power armor still weighed over 300 kilos.
With the roof collapsing, all he could do was try to keep balance as he crashed downward.
In the chaos, Muramasa moved seamlessly.
Some Maelstrom got lucky—barely managing to raise a defense.
The unlucky ones?
They just felt Muramasa step over them.
Every strike was perfectly optimized.
If a kick could crush a skull, it wouldn't waste a punch.
If a punch worked, it wouldn't waste a rocket.
And every rocket blast became propulsion.
Masamune's body wasn't just high-performance mobility gear—
it carried arc welders, nail guns, thermal cutters.
Debris rained down—parts flying, smashing into streets or crashing below.
And Maelstrom?
They felt it clearly:
Every move—just a fraction too slow.
Hands slower.
Attacks slower.
Armor weaker.
Even running—
too late.
Five seconds.
From impact to total collapse—
Maelstrom was physically torn apart.
Meanwhile, all excess heat from the cyberware was funneled into a short blade mounted on Muramasa's calf.
Temperature peaked.
Air warped.
Muramasa surged forward, drawing the blade.
Behind him, Joestar heard explosions and screams chaining together, every motor and synthetic muscle in his body pushed to the limit—
"HELP—!"
Bang—
Joestar dove off the roof.
Right then, Jackie reached the ground below and caught him—and his mom.
On the rooftop—
V intercepted Muramasa with her mantis blades.
Midair, in zero-grav momentum, they exchanged two probing strikes.
V deflected Muramasa's blade upward, deploying her right mantis blade and striking—
—but Muramasa's shoulder ejected a component, knocking her blade off trajectory.
The fragment shot out like armor plating—thin, layered, knife-like.
The angle—
was brutal.
V cut her force mid-swing, adjusted with leg thrusters, blade skimming across Muramasa's chest—
The armor shard grazed past her face.
Tap.
Exchange over.
V flipped midair and landed clean.
Muramasa stood atop a broken streetlight, staring her down.
V's expression hardened.
Jackie noticed immediately—
burnt synthetic skin in the air.
A strand of V's hair drifting down.
Muramasa was faster.
Not just a little faster.
And that was after wiping multiple Maelstrom targets midair.
V was still processing—
when a black-red glitch flickered across her vision.
Little Octopus appeared—smashing the projection with a tentacle.
For rogue AIs like Muramasa, any electrified contact was lethal.
"Now this is a real fight."
BOOM—
A massive explosion erupted where the Centaur mech stood.
Tyger Claws nearby were swallowed by the blast.
"GET IN THE CAR!!"
Da Mai's voice snapped V back.
Jackie hauled Joestar over the wall in one leap.
A tentacle reached out from the vehicle.
V fired webbing, grabbed it, eyes locked on Muramasa as she launched—
Midair, she finally glanced back.
The Centaur mech burst through flames, tearing a Tyger Claw in half—
and hurled an arm toward Muramasa.
Muramasa caught it.
Stripped parts in seconds.
Welded it onto its shoulder—
now three-armed.
"Round three."
The lightweight Centaur frame broke through the Tyger Claw perimeter.
Muramasa mounted it, grabbing a Tyger Claw's lower half, dismantling it on the move—
chasing the Mackinaw at full speed.
Its wireless network had been cut by hijacked micro RF devices.
If it wanted to survive—
it had to destroy Brainiac's mainframe, reclaim control—
and ride the Net to another domain.
And—
this was the final stretch.
It was going to win.